


One Night in Small Heath

by 100dabbo



Series: Absent Togetherness [3]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Tommy Shelby, Cigarettes, Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Goodbyes, Kissing, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, M/M, Morning After, Morning Sex, Pet Names, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reunions, Rimming, Romance, Slow Dancing, Teasing, Top Alfie Solomons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24554938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100dabbo/pseuds/100dabbo
Summary: In desperate need for Alfie's company, Tommy wakes up in his cold bed, plagued by nightmares. If only he could see him for just one night.
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: Absent Togetherness [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726294
Comments: 32
Kudos: 102





	1. The Spontaneous Arrival

Bolting up in the middle of the night, waking from a nightmare, was the worst thing regularly plaguing Tommy’s life, especially since no-one lay beside him for comfort.

Cold sweat trickled down his brow as he blinked his eyes open, sitting upright with fists balled into his sheets, heart pounding behind his ribs and ragged breaths drawing into his lungs. His throat was dry and his body was shaking.

It didn’t help that he missed Alfie so much either, the pair hadn’t spoken for days, maybe even over a week.

He shut his eyes, trying to think of the next time he might be held in his warm arms again, the next time he could free up some time to travel back down and spend another weekend at his house in comfort and security. But then the torrent of reality flooded back in; neither man had the spare time, both were too busy with their own sides of business, a simple two-day break could give it up to ruin. 

His head crashed back down onto the pillow where his damp eyes met with softness. Small tears leaked out with quiet whimpers as he drifted back into a sleep.

The morning sun was a harsh and blinding and cut through the glass pane to glare on Tommy’s face until his eyes were opened once more. He winced, stretching out his limbs to sit up, his bare feet placed solidly on the cold floorboards. His eyes glanced over to his bedside table where a folded-up telegram sat. It was time to get dressed.

Despite his efforts, the misery carried throughout his day, and it wasn’t until he had a rest that he reflected in his next move to see Alfie again. With a cigarette in one hand and a finger of whiskey in the other, he reclined himself in the living room, watching the fireplace as its flames licked at the burning wood, crackling and spitting embers.

His lips touched the cigarette, and just as he dragged, Ada walked into the room.

“Tommy.” She said bluntly, almost with an air of impatience. She looked him dead in the eyes. “You’re going to tell me what’s the matter, and you’re going to tell me now.”

His heart ached as he heard it; she could never be told the extent to which Tommy longed for contact with Alfie, how much he wanted him here and now, and so he sighed, knowing he had to opt for an explanation with brevity.

“A nightmare, Ada, that’s all there is to it. Just shaken me up a little bit, alright?” 

He was being far too defensive and vague, and even as the words came out of his own mouth he could tell. She recoiled slightly, but she didn’t get up and walk away. Instead, she reached forward, her hand landing on Tommy’s wrist. She smiled.

“You know what I think, Tommy?”

“No, Ada, I don’t know what you think.”

“I think you should find someone.” She whispered, her eyes almost shining with some sort of hope. Then she let go of Tommy’s wrist.

What Tommy wanted to reply with was that he had. He had found someone so adoring and brilliant to him, someone so loving and amazing to be around, but someone that could never see him. He sighed and brought the cigarette back to his mouth before he could let anything regrettable slip past his lips.

“Unless there already is someone…” She continued teasingly as if she had read Tommy’s mind, picking up a cigarette for herself and keeping an playfully interrogative stare on the man’s face.

“There’s not.” Tommy forced himself to say, taking another sip of the alcohol to numb himself just a little more.

“Really?” Ada continued questioning, a sceptical tone in her voice, “You’ve been making an awful lot of trips to Camden Town recently… There’s not a girl, is there?”

In an attempt to keep his composure, Tommy sucked on his cigarette, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the fire while he answered her misguided question,

“Quite the opposite, Ada.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a tall, bearded, unpredictable Jewish gentleman with a distillery he likes to call a bakery, and who I visit every time he calls upon me.” 

He looked back at her as he finished, seeing the smile slowly growing on her lips. Then he realised how it sounded, because rather than it coming off as a deflection as he had hoped, it basically confirmed her hypothesis. 

“Is that so?” She giggled, inhaling her cigarette and blowing it directly towards his face.

Tommy said nothing and gave his attention back to his whiskey.

At five o’clock, he was pacing in his office, thinking through his calendar for the next few weeks; which days were disposable, and which were not, wondering if any had the possibility of clashing with Alfie’s. Then he heard the telegram machine by Lizzie’s desk.

His heart leaped for a second, remembering when that last telegram came through just as he had gotten home, thinking it could be another right from the Camden office. But, then again, why would he send one now when it had been weeks since the last?

He walked into her office nonetheless, waiting patiently for it to finish coming through. She passed it to him without offering it a glance, and he took it from her with haste.

He held it up to his eyes, squinting as he focused on the words.

_Call the distillery office at 11pm. Don’t be late._

It took him a second to register the request, considering how usual it was for Alfie to write in such a straight-forward way, especially not to use a single pet name or ambiguous note. It was almost _too_ clear of an instruction. Still, the thoughts began piling in his head as to what he wanted to talk to him about, what he wanted to say and catch upon, even the possibility of talking him off again…

Then he smiled for the first time that day, just a small tug at the corner of his lips. He folded it up into his pocket, keeping it close to him as the hours ticked by.

Six hours later and he was sat at his desk, both hands braced on the arms of his chair, eyes keenly watching the second hands of the clock tick by until eleven was struck. 

With no one else left in the betting shop and his office door already locked, his fingers landed on the dial, turning in each number until it began to ring for Alfie’s office. Each ring felt like an eternity, each second just another second in his life away from Alfie. Then it was answered.

“Hello?” Was the only word that came down the receiver, asked timidly, as though the recipient of the call wasn’t expecting it.

“Alfie?” Tommy asked, worrying he’d dialled the wrong number and ended up waking some strangers from their sleep, answering the phone to an man wanting to get someone else’s rocks off from halfway across the country. Then the reply came in and he let himself at ease.

“Mr Shelby? Alfie isn’t here, can I take a message for him?”

“Ollie, for fuck’s sake, where is he?” His patience was already wearing thin from just three seconds on the phone with him, debating within himself whether or not just to hang up and call back later. He retrieved the telegram from his pocket, rereading it to himself and checking he hadn’t called at the wrong time. Ollie made his reply as he read through,

“I told you, he’s not here, he’s probably at home. All he told me to do was send you a telegram and then pick up the phone when you called. I assumed _you_ were the one that wanted to call.”

“He told you to write me this telegram, eh?” And he stared at it and its instructions, clearly written by Ollie now that he looked back on it. “So, where is he now then?” 

“He left the office at six o’cl—”

The doorbell rang.

Tommy’s attention darted away from the phone call as soon as he heard its shrill ring. Without second thought, he placed the receiver back onto the hook and stood from his desk. 

With slow, almost nervous paces, he walked out of his office towards the door, wrapping his hand tightly around the cool doorknob before twisting and pulling it ajar.

Alfie was on his doorstep, his flat brimmed hat on his head shadowing his face, his soft beard shining in the light coming from the hallway. He looked up and smiled.

“You alright mate? Listen, I need some help, right, because my cabbie has just dropped me off here and I don’t know where in bleeding hell I am, so if you could point me towards some lodgings I would be eternally grateful ma—”

Tommy leaped forward without hesitation, wrapping his arms around Alfie’s neck and burying his face into his coat collar. 

His warmth and smell hit him first, that divine musk he’d missed so much, then his touch came next, his soft hands landing on his waist to hold him close.

“Did you plan that out in the coach, you bastard?” Tommy muffled into his coat, still clinging tightly onto him in the cold and quite street. Alfie only laughed, knowing if he outright confirmed it, he wouldn’t hear the last of it.

He withdrew from Tommy, still holding onto his waist as he looked into those eyes, filled with shock and excitement.

“I wanted to surprise you,” He purred, raising a hand to rest on the side of Tommy’s beaming face, gently passing his thumb across his cheekbone. He raised his eyebrows, “…did I surprise you?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, taking Alfie’s hand from his cheek to lead him into the hallway and out of the street.

“Yes, yes you did surprise me, you absolute fucking cunt.” Tommy replied with that same smile still adorning his lips, walking in front of him with his tight grip remaining on the man’s hand as he led him though the empty betting shop. He stopped at the bar to pour himself a whiskey as Alfie leant on the table, eyes watching every move. Then as Tommy came back around, he opened his mouth again,

“Well, if you think about it, Sweetie,” Alfie began, stifling a chuckle of his own, “If you’d remembered to have these, yeah,” He pulled Tommy’s spectacles from the breast pocket of his coat, “You would have known _exactly_ when I was about to arrive, wouldn’t you?”

He held them up over his head, watching Tommy crane his neck up to follow them upwards, his big blue eyes watching them be taunted above him. The ice in his glass rattled against itself as he reached up, inclining his body closer to Alfie’s.

His hand wrapped around Alfie’s, the glasses in his grip, and slowly brought it down to his side, their parted lips fractions away.

“You haven’t even kissed me yet and you want to tease me?” Tommy whispered to him, squeezing the other man’s hand tightly.

“Tends to be the case when one is berated as a ‘bastard’ and a ‘c—”

Tommy’s lips pressed onto Alfie’s, warmly and gently, closing his eyes to feel that beard against his mouth in all its softness. His arms wrapped themselves back around his neck, holding him in a close embrace as he was kissed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)


	2. The Night of Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy directs Alfie to suitable lodgings.

Their mouths separated slowly, soft touches lingering on one another, smiling with their foreheads rested together.

“So,” Alfie whispered, his heavy eyes trying to concentrate on Tommy’s lips as the man pinched them between his teeth, “Lodgings.”

Tommy laughed, stepping back slightly to bring the rim of his whiskey glass to his lips to take a sip of the cool drink. He let the silence draw out to swallow it down, aware of Alfie’s eyes watching the bob of his throat and the lick of his lips as they chased the remnants of the alcohol.

“Well, Alfie,” He said, resting his glass on the table, “I’m afraid I just can’t _see_ where any suitable lodgings for us might be.”

Alfie hummed, almost as if in contemplation, and nodded his head in agreement while his eyes darted to his own hand holding the glasses he was yet to return to their owner.

“That’s interesting you say that, mate,” And he brought up his hand, unfolding the arms of the spectacles, “These might help you out there…” And he pointed them towards him, putting them on his face and settling them onto his nose and around his ears.

Tommy smiled as Alfie’s face came into focus; the soft, loving gaze in his eyes all the more clear when he looked through the lenses. Those soft blue eyes smiled and tracked across his face, taking in every little detail and emotion going through him, each little tweak of his smile and flutter of his eyelashes. 

“I’ve got a place we can go.” Tommy told him, finishing off his drink and putting his hands in his pockets. His fingers brushed against the telegram. It was starting to set in that the very man was longing for since the second he woke up was right before his eyes. He smiled even wider. “Follow me.”

And he led him out of the betting shop, passing his office to pick up his cap before leaving, going out into the cold, foggy streets of Small Heath. The chill in the air brushed against them, Tommy finding warmth in the drag of a cigarette he’d lighted just short of stepping out of the door, keeping that overcoat of his wrapped tightly around himself.

“Well, unless I am woefully mistaken, mate, I didn’t think that Small Heath was known for its hotels,” Alfie started, turning his head to look at Tommy as he spoke, “So tell me, Sweetie, where has that devious little mind of yours planned to take us?”

Tommy took a draw of his cigarette and blew the smoke into the air, still beaming that he was even next to Alfie, even if he was teasing him.

“Not a plan, Alfie, a plan implies forethought and _time_ ,” He said with all the composure he could muster. Alfie laughed, and he continued, “So, you will be kept in the dark until we arrive, alright? You could even say that it’s _a surprise_ …”

He flicked his spent cigarette on the pavement and stepped on it, blowing out the last of the smoke from the corner of his mouth. Alfie said nothing in response, hiding his smirk and the crease of his eyes with the brim of his hat, but Tommy always knew it was there; with every quip and every comment, he knew beyond a doubt Alfie would always be smiling at him. Still, Tommy didn’t say anything else about it, that is until he stopped in the street. He looked up at the building before him.

“This, right here Alfie, is the best hotel in Small Heath.”

He pulled out yet another cigarette and lit the end, relishing in the fact that Alfie was, once again, taking no pains to conceal himself as he watched those soft lips of his close around the cigarette’s filter and suck on it. Tommy let his eyes glance across to him.

“Right.” Alfie nodded, sounding somewhat unimpressed, “Right, so then by equivalent, it’s the worst hotel in Camden, eh?” He couldn’t resist finishing with a smirk. Tommy blinked slowly at him and gestured with his cigarette as he spoke,

“You came all the way up here for me, I’m sure a firm mattress isn’t going to kill you...”

“Well then, after you…” And he paused, gesturing his hand forward and raising an eyebrow, “Mr Shelby…”

Tommy stepped into the hotel’s entrance, walking straight up to the reception desk as he fished his wallet from his pocket. And, instead of staying behind, Alfie stepped right up beside him at the desk, and as soon as Tommy caught him in his peripheral, he knew it was to observe him under pressure; see the way he was about to make it clear to the receptionist they were having a room together, and with only one bed between them. 

So, he cleared his throat and drew a single note from his wallet to place on the desk.

“I’d like a double room, please.” He said calmly, pushing the note in front of the receptionist, letting her see its value exceed that of _any_ room in the entire hotel.

She flicked her eyes to Alfie, who was taking his hat off and seeing to it that all his attention was directed solely at Tommy. 

A part of him did like to see Tommy take control of a situation, it reminded him of how dangerous he was, how clever and calculated he had the potential to be in a situation and turn it around to be in his favour. He almost loved it as much as taking all that power away and fucking him till he couldn’t breathe. Almost. 

“A twin room is that, Mr Shelby? Double beds?” She responded, nervously swallowing as her eyes were brought back to Tommy who sighed with impatience. He looked down at her with an austere glare.

“One double.” He reiterated, pushing the note further towards her. She reached for a key behind the desk to give to him, leaning forward to take the money from his hand. “You keep that for yourself, eh?” He offered, his hand lingering on the desk. She only nodded. “Right.”

He took his hand off the desk and picked up the key, gesturing once more for Alfie to follow him as his eyes darted down to check the number of their room.

“Very good, Tom, very good,” Alfie praised, stroking his beard with one hand, holding his hat with the other, “But do you accept notes?”

“Go ahead.” He reluctantly accepted, knowing he was in for a ramble and a half, which he received not even half a second later,

“Never bribe. They take that money and go, telling everyone in this shithole from the brothels to the factories, yeah? That’s the last thing you want, innit? What with your OBEs and titles and influences or whatever the fuck new status you’ve managed to wrangle for yourself, eh? Now, blackmail, blackmail is what you want, that shit never goes away, right, sticks like honey what has been left out on a warm day, doesn’t it? So what makes you so cocksure of yourself you’ve done the right thing out there? What is it that gives you the confidence to walk away from that there desk without an iota of care for what she’s about to do with the fact, right, that Mr Thomas Shelby of the Peaky Fucking Blinders has walked into a hotel with a man? Hm?”

Tommy smiled all throughout Alfie’s little speech and managed to stifle the chuckle rising within him. He took another draw on his cigarette and stopped outside their door.

“Well, Mr Solomons,” He kept up his smile while he inserted the key into the lock, “You’ve gotten something wrong there.”

“Have I?” Alfie asked with an air of playful curiosity, raising his chin up to maintain his serious composure.

“You bribe someone when they’re already scared of you.”

And he opened the door wide open, letting Alfie step in before him, laughing while stripping his overcoat from his arms. His eyes immediately caught sight the small radio on the dresser. He walked over to it, dumping his coat and hat on a chair to start fiddling with the dials, tuning in and out of channels until he landed on a classical station. He smiled and gazed over to Tommy as he was shaking his own coat and jacket from his torso, laying both of them carefully on the same chair.

“Mr Shelby?” He asked, extending a hand as Tommy lifted his head to look at him, “Dance with me?”

A warm smile adorned the man’s lips once more and he walked forward to stub his cigarette into an ashtray, throwing his hat beside the radio. He accepted the hand that was offered to him, draping his own over Alfie’s shoulder, letting his head return back to its place in the crook of Alfie’s neck while they began to sway to the music, the other man’s gentle hand on his waist holding his close.

Intimate occasions like these were hard to come by; just a private, sweet moment between the two that consisted of nothing but pure love for one another. Tommy closed his eyes as Alfie quietly hummed along with the soft melody, keeping their embrace close and warm with his arms. They stayed there for some time, silently enjoying one another’s touch until Tommy’s soft whisper broke the quiet,

“I don’t know if I want to stay like this forever or let you fuck me into that mattress over there…” And he raised his hand from Alfie’s shoulder to lace his fingers through his beard, brushing against his cheekbones fondly as he looked up with contentment. “What do you think?”

“Well…” Alfie purred, reaching for the radio to turn it off, “If you’re saying that _I_ would have a stake in the situation…”

“Yes…”

His fingers began touching at Tommy’s buttons, unfastening a few of them at the collar,

“If it was me deciding which one of those options I’d take, well, Treacle, that’d be a real, real conundrum, wouldn’t it?”

“Mhmm…” Tommy hummed as he waited for the rest of his buttons to be undone until the whole shirt was open. Alfie’s hands traced across his undershirt, slipping beneath to feel at his chest with his cool fingertips.

“Well, as always, I’m impartial to your choices, Tommy, so, whatever you think you’d like, you just tell me…”

After a slow blink, Tommy inclined himself even closer to the other man, his mouth fractions away from his, shifting his hands onto his belt to unloop it from its buckle and slip it from the loopholes. He dumped it on the floor.

“I think…” He continued, whispering, letting his lips tempt Alfie with their intimate proximity to his own, “I think I want your cock down my throat.” And he pressed his mouth onto Alfie’s softly with a short, sweet kiss before pulling away to kneel down. He pulled down his trousers and looked up at him.

His palm stroked at Alfie’s dick, letting it stiffen just a fraction before he released it from his underwear. He wet his lips with a slow swipe of his tongue, ensuring his eyes were locked with Alfie’s as he pressed them to the side of his half-hard cock, sliding along until he was at the head and could let it into his mouth.

Alfie let out a groan immediately, Tommy’s wide eyes staring into him as he length was taken further down his throat, and when his lips closed all the way around it, dragging upwards to begin a bobbing rhythm, Alfie couldn’t help but put his hand on the back of his head to guide each exquisite move; the swipe of his tongue on the base, the tightness of his cheeks, the wetness of his warm saliva coating his length in its entirety.

“Fuckin’ hell…” He sighed through a ragged breath, feeling himself throb inside Tommy’s mouth, “Just like that, Tom, yeah…”

And so Tommy continued working with his mouth gladly, releasing small little whines every time he came up for air,

“Oh, Mr Solomons, you’re just so big…” He panted, composing himself again before he went back, hollowing his cheeks around him, continuing to gaze up at him with that doe-eyed look he knew would drive him mad.

“Fuck, Sweetie, touch yourself...” Alfie instructed. Tommy wasted no time in unfastening his trousers to fish himself out, taking himself in his own palm with slow and steady strokes, purposeful moans escaping him at just the right times to vibrate against Alfie’s cock. 

He pushed himself down further, engulfing its entire length into the back of his throat, touching the tip of his nose onto Alfie’s stomach for long enough to make the man above him grunt. His fingers dug into Tommy’s nape with a strong grip, pinching at the skin between his knuckles, continuing to encourage his sweet tongue strokes and tight lips, and when he moaned around him to his own touch, it made him all the more hard.

“God, if you’re not careful I’m gonna come down that lovely - _ah_ \- tight throat of yours, fuck!” Alfie hissed, Tommy’s ravenous lust and effort making him simultaneously tense up and relax, his fingers plunging into his locks to get a hold of his head. Tommy understood what Alfie was getting at and dragged himself towards the head, carefully licking at the slit before he took his whole mouth away.

One hand stayed pumping his own length as the other reached up to stroke Alfie, maintaining that friction on him. He looked up with heavy eyes; weighted with arousal.

“Mr Solomons… I want to be fucked, and I want to be fucked hard…” He whispered, finishing with a bite of his lips and the fluttering of eyelashes.

“Is that so?” The other man said, stepping out of the trousers pooled at his ankles and kicking them towards his belt. Tommy just nodded and kept up the tempo of both hands. “Well then… Get that shirt off and then we’ll see, wont we?”

Slowly, Tommy lifted himself from his knees, taking his palm away from himself to shake the shirt from his arms, letting his trousers and underwear fall from his legs while he was at it. He kept on jerking Alfie as he leant closer, kissing him once more and unbuttoning his shirt, Alfie assisting him by pulling the whole thing off, letting his passions rise enough to push Tommy back onto the bed and land between his legs, hands starting to feel up his bare torso.

“Fucked hard you say?” Alfie asked between kisses, met with Tommy’s ever fervent nods, wrapping his arms around him to keep him from escaping their embrace. “Then turn over.”

Tommy did as he was told without a word, flipping himself onto his front, edging closer to the pillows for his own comfort, waiting with eager breaths. Alfie’s hands carefully landed on his curve, spreading out his cheeks as he bent down to lick a stripe across his hole, a teasing prelude to then tonguing him a second later. Delightfully high-pitched whines were let out of Tommy while the man’s bread stroked and scratched against the sensitive skin, and he hummed in his deepest tones to let the vibrations stimulate him even more.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Was the extent to Tommy’s vocabulary as he experienced each lap of Alfie’s tongue and suck from his lips, “ _Yes_!” He cried out to Alfie’s joy, the man loving every single sound that came out of him, every lovely little noise that slipped past those lips to convey his pleasure. 

Alfie took his mouth away after he’d had enough of waiting, keeping his hands lingering on Tommy’s skin, shifting them to his hips for a possessive grip. He kneeled up, looking over the needy image of Thomas Shelby below him, absolutely ravenous for it. He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, starting to slide his cock between his cheeks, humming as he readied himself.

“Beg for it, whore.”

Tommy’s breath hitched and he turned his head it the side, opening up his eyes to look behind him at Alfie. He bit his lip.

“Please, Mr Solomons, please fuck me like I’m yours!”

And he batted his eyelashes, a plea for commencement. Alfie smiled and started to line himself up, the hard tip on his cock firmly pressing onto Tommy’s tight hole. He smirked.

“You are mine.”

Then he pushed himself in, easing carefully at first, then slipping the entirely of his length in with a strong slam that caused yet another curse to fall from Tommy’s lips. When at the hilt, he pushed his hands down on Tommy’s arms, keeping him pinned down in bliss, completely and utterly subjugated as he began a slow tempo of thrusts.

Each strong drive jolted Tommy into the mattress, his face buried between the soft pillows that, in all honesty, weren’t so bad for the hotel they were in, dampening the ruckus of the many noises that came out of him; whines and moans, the repetition of Alfie’s name, some mentions of God peppered in for good measure, while every thrust in and out of him got him closer to his release. His dick rubbed between his own stomach and the sheets, and he could feel his slit leaking his pre-ejaculate from the friction.

Above him, Alfie grunted with every push, eventually speaking up as his climax approached,

“You fucking belong to me, don’t you, hm?” His breathy growl asked, being met with a thousand yeses panted through whimpers, and it wasn’t long after hearing them that Alfie finished, spilling inside of Tommy with a final thrust and tight grip on the man’s arms.

When he drew out, his hands made no hesitation in turning onto Tommy’s hips, flipping him onto his back to give access to his throbbing cock where upon he put his mouth, pleasantly shocking Tommy’s senses with the new sensation. He gasped and reached his hands down into Alfie’s hair.

Still, he was still yet to construct a coherent sentence, and as such could only moan through the rise and fall of Alfie’s lips and his tight, wet cheeks until he finally came too, down the man’s throat with guttural groaning, the spoils being swallowed with grace.

Alfie then came back up to lean over him, wide smile stretching his mouth. Through his heavy lids, Tommy could manage a glimpse at him, raising up his hands to hold his bearded face once more.

“You don’t even know how badly I fucking needed that, Alfie…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this one, I've been enjoying writing a lot of fluff recently, but nothing beats a good chunk of smut :) Thanks for reading :)


	3. The Morning of Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie's inevitable leave arrives, though not before they fuck one last time.

“You’ve made a habit of saying that, you know.”

Tommy, stilled glazed over from the afterglow and panting, could only whisper to reply,

“Saying what?”

“That you need me.” He said, his hand tracing up to Tommy’s flushed cheek, his thumb brushing against his cheekbone with the gentlest touch to pass over the faint little freckles dotted all across his skin. Tommy smiled at him.

“That’s because I do need you, Alfie.” His hand cupped over Alfie’s nape and pulled him down to lay beside him, looking into his kind eyes as they slowly turned to a gaze of sympathy. He took Tommy’s hand between his own.

“I’m only here for one night, Treacle,” He said, his voice somewhat solemn, “You know I’m not always gonna be able to come up like this…”

“Fucking hell, Alfie, you sound like you’re dying,” Tommy chuckled, slipping his hand out of the other man’s grip, and getting himself up to search for the cigarettes tucked away in his jacket pocket. He bent over as he got them, knowing Alfie’s eyes would be tracking each of his slow moves as if he was the most fascinating creature on earth prowling before him.

He tapped on the base of the packet as he picked it up it, letting a cigarette loose to trap it between his lips and flick the flint of his lighter. He took a drag and blew out the smoke above him, letting his eyes roam across the room. “You’re here right now, and that’s all I fucking care about.” 

“What I mean is that this was a one off, right, a rarity that you shouldn’t get used to, because until we find a viable situation, yeah, it’ll be every three fucking weeks that we see each other, won’t it?” Tommy’s attention fell back on Alfie as he said that, as if he’d just brought up something he didn’t already know in his head, something he didn’t already feel in the pangs of his heart every night in a cold bed. He traced his fingers through his tousled hair and flattened it back out again.

He didn’t want to reply because he didn’t want to acknowledge it as fact. Instead he took another draw on the cigarette and smiled,

“I’m gonna clean myself up.”

Alfie just watched him enter the en-suite without another word.

At 2am, Tommy’s mind was wrestling against itself; flashes of memories and trauma, relentless images of war and tragedy he’d witnessed flooding back into his consciousness, as vivid as the real thing. 

He didn’t quite bolt upright, but with a clasp on the sheets tight enough to turn his knuckles white, his eyes shot open and blinked for clarity – desperate for confirmation he was indeed still in the real world and not wherever his mind believed him to be. His body shook, mild tremors going up and down his sweating skin, unable to contain expelling a whimper into the dark.

Then he felt Alfie’s warm hand smooth over him.

The man was half awake, clearly not in a lucid enough state to offer any true consolation or calming for Tommy’s rapid pulse, but without even knowing it, that one touch, that one miniscule caress that traced over Tommy’s skin like a warm ghost let him back into his skin.

“Shhh…” He hushed, welcoming Tommy into his arms as he sunk into his embrace, wrapping around him and humming, affirming with him that him he was safe.

He really didn’t know how much Tommy needed it.

When Tommy woke up again, this time when the sun was above the horizon, he looked up to see Alfie awake and smiling at him, still smoothing his hand across his back.

“Morning, Alfie…” Tommy mumbled as he buried his face back into his warm chest, passing his hand across his hair as he landed kisses across his skin.

“Yeah, it is.” Alfie whispered back, enjoying each little press of Tommy’s lips against him, sighing deeply and still smiling. He was long overdue a lie in, and with Tommy’s weight on top of him, there was no better time to have one and hold him tight. But then, the man on top of him decided to begin shifting, and before he knew it, he was out of his grip and walking around the side of the bed to pick up his shirt. “Where you goin’, eh?” He asked playfully, sitting himself up against the headboard to get a better view of him; shirt lazily shrugged over his arms, hair dishevelled and lips already enclosing around a cigarette. Walking back towards the bed, Tommy lit the end and took his first drag of the day, sighing with closed eyes as he exhaled the smoke from of his lungs. His eyes landed back onto Alfie.

“Fuckin’ hell, Tommy…” Alfie breathed, taking Tommy’s form in through his tired eyes, “Those legs are fucking killing me…”

Tommy smiled, stepping onto the mattress to stand above him, another short draw of the cigarette in and out of his lungs. The smoke trailed from the end in a thin, grey wisp.

“Is that right?” He asked, extending his arm to tap the ash onto the carpet, avoiding the sheets and the man still in them who was watching him with an open mouth, feeling himself stiffen by just _looking_ at him. To be fair, his cock was still out.

“Never been more honest in my life, mate.” Then Alfie’s hands reached up onto Tommy’s hips, dragging him back down for him to kneel on top of his lap, giggling at the forceful tug. “What time is it?” He whispered, not even daring for a second to take his eyes from Tommy’s lips to glance at the clock. 

With a smile, Tommy relaxed himself onto Alfie’s lap and brought the cigarette back to his mouth, squinting his eyes to check the clock on the bedside table. The hands were a blur and Tommy couldn’t even begin to make it out.

“Can’t see…” He whispered back just before he gave up his efforts and let his attention return to Alfie. 

“If only you had your glasses, eh?” Alfie gestured towards the other bedside table with a nod of his head, the place where Tommy had left them. His hands landed on Tommy’s thighs as the man bent over to reach them, gently unfolding the arms and wrapping them around his ears. “Well?”

“A quarter to eight.” Tommy reported back, reaching to immediately pull them back off his face when Alfie caught his wrist.

“Then we’ve got plenty of time before you gotta be in some meeting with your brothers in that shithole pub where you probably get drunk and talk about _business_.” He continued stroking up and down his thighs, “That’s what you do innit? _Business_ …”

“Something like that, yeah…” And he couldn’t resist smiling wide as he looked into his eyes.

“You know something, Tommy, there are many, many pleasures on this earth, yeah?” Alfie began, letting Tommy decide if he wanted to hear his rambling or not with a pause. After a second and a draw on the cigarette, Tommy opted for it,

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, mate, loads of ‘em. Some simple, like the pleasure of getting’ all your work done on busy day or havin’ enough time to finish your book in the evening, yeah?”

“Mhm…”

“But some of ‘em, yeah, some of them are _bigger_ than that, aren’t they? More complex and indulgent, like…” He squeezed at Tommy’s thigh, stroking his thumbs against the smooth skin, “The pleasure of the flesh, for example,” Tommy smiled even wider as he heard it, expecting Alfie to start something, “But nothing, mate, nothing can ever compete with the pleasure of making you fucking smile.”

Tommy widened his eyes at that. Usually, every single one of his tangents would manage to lead their way off to a moral or a reason - something undoubtedly cryptic - but something that could make sense in its own way. A straight up flattery was a surprise, not because Alfie never flattered him, but just because he’d never received it in such a way. And so he laughed.

“Thanks, Alfie…” He chuckled, watching the man’s eyes track all around his face, relishing in the result of his efforts, because, Tommy was smiling after all.

“I just wanna fucking capture it and keep it forever, it’s fucking amazing, mate.”

Tommy took the last drag on the cigarette and stubbed it in the ashtray beside the clock,

“Do you know what a fucking photograph is?” He giggled, “Because if not, I’m about to make your day ten times better.” Then he leaned into him to press their mouths together, giving him a mild taste of the smoke that passed his lips just seconds ago. The closer he leaned, the tighter Alfie’s grip became, so Tommy pulled away to ask him what was had been on his mind since the second he landed on Alfie’s lap, “Are you going to fuck me, Mr Solomons?”

“Well, that depends, doesn’t it?” Alfie said, “It depends on whether or not you’ve been a good little whore…” Tommy blinked at him slowly with his lusting eyes. “Do _you_ think you’ve been a good whore for me?”

Tommy nodded, eager to get fucked one last time before Alfie was to leave, his dick twitching as those calloused hands ran across his skin.

“Really?” Alfie continued to probe, the look of scepticism on his face perfectly teasing, “You’ve been fucked, of course, but it’s my understanding, yeah, that a good whore will work for it.” His hand travelled up behind Tommy’s hip where the tips of his fingers found his hole. They pressed against it gently. “Are you gonna work for it?”

Before he even said yes, Tommy pushed himself down onto them, whining quietly at the intrusion. His hips rocked back, his teeth pinching his soft lip as Alfie scissored them inside of him to synchronise with his pushes, leaning forwards to latch his lips onto the man’s pale throat while he fucked himself.

“I’m your good whore! Please, Mr Solomons, please fuck me!” He wailed, the strong fingers dragging against his prostate with each push down, stretching out the walls of his insides to prepare him for Alfie’s girth, and as the man hummed against his neck, softly scratching his beard against the skin making his way upwards to Tommy’s jaw, his cock twitched, stiffening by the second.

The sounds that Tommy produced were enough to get Alfie hard too, and with his free hand he wrapped his palm around himself, beginning with gentle stokes until he was ready, where upon he removed his mouth from Tommy’s skin to look at him in all his salacious, wanton desperation. He pulled out his fingers slowly, watching his eyes open as they were woefully taken away, and he grabbed onto his own cock to tease the head against Tommy’s hole.

“You’re gonna make sure I can hear you, then?” He whispered, his tone laced with condescension, the tip of his dick rubbing over his entrance. Biting his lip softly, Tommy replied with a licentious hum, 

“Oh, of course, Mr Solomons…” And he stroked his hands through the hairs on Alfie’s chest, sliding them up to his shoulders where they found a comfortable grip.

“Go on then.” Was Alfie’s command, encouraging Tommy as he sank down on him, keeping that steady grip on the man’s hips while scratchy little whines came out of him, each successive noise getting louder and louder as Alfie’s cock pressed into his prostate as it was fully immersed.

He stayed on it, unmoving, as though he was paralysed with pleasure, his tight hole gripping Alfie with its heat that was good enough to make him groan, though not before his impatience took him over,

“Start moving, whore.” Said Alfie though a hiss, guiding the man’s hips, making him start his motions, his hard cock gaining the slightest of friction as it gently rubbed against Alfie’s stomach.

“Please, touch me Mr Solomons!” He begged, his high pitch something Alfie couldn’t ignore, but he resisted moving his hands from his hips until he felt he was deserving of any sort of contact for his flushed dick.

“Have you been good?” He pressed, his cock throbbing inside of Tommy, those rocking hips gaining a consistent pace and the emphatic nods of his head making hid bed-head hair flop across his forehead. “Do you belong to me?”

“Yes, Mr Solomons! I belong to you, I’m yours!” He whimpered, not a shred of embarrassment about him, the staff in the hotel sure to hear him through the walls. It made Alfie grin, the thought that the King of Birmingham could subjugate himself enough, just like this, just for him. He supposed that made him deserving of some friction.

His hand slipped from his hip and onto his neglected cock, Tommy moaning upon the contact, thrusting into the palm to chase the touch and quickening his pace to start bouncing on his lap with all his effort.

“Good whores come when they’re told to, don’t they, hm?!” Alfie grunted, pressing his thumb into Tommy’s wet slit, rubbing his skin with circular motions to see him writhe on top of him, the rose flush creeping across his cheeks as he prepared to greet his climax.

Tommy nodded and pinched his lip between his teeth, desperate to keep Alfie’s cock rubbing against his sweet spot with each rock back onto him, his squirming hips working him closer and closer.

“Please…” He whispered, eyelashes fluttering and hand tightening, pulling on Alfie’s shoulder with all his strength, begging for his release like his life depended on it. Alfie hummed and leaned his face in close,

“Go on.”

And he pressed his mouth onto his, letting him enjoy his orgasm with a deep, wet kiss, feeling him spill himself onto his stomach and clench around him with divine tightness, still riding through it as bliss flooded his veins.

With the afterglow only just starting to set in, Tommy’s eyes reopened, looking down to see Alfie’s hand draw away from his cock and returning to his hip, resuming the tight grip. He thrusted up into him, the spike of pleasure making his spent dick twitch, each of the next drives slamming into him making more and more moans escape. 

Alfie couldn’t help but appreciate what was right in front of him; pink lips wet and parted, blue eyes blown out with lust and helplessly fluttering, a sinful tongue slipping past his teeth while he panted out hot breaths.

“Are you- Are you going to come inside me, Mr Solomons?” He asked, practically ready to get hard again if it was to go on any longer. With a purr, Alfie replied,

“That’s what a good whore’s for, after all…”

And in the next few thrusts, he emptied himself inside of Tommy with a groan, pushing his head back against the headboard for the ecstasy to take over, knowing it was going to be a while before he could feel it with Tommy again.

A second passed, filled with nothing but fast breathing and bliss, then gently, Tommy relieved himself off of Alfie’s lap, raising a hand to rest on his cheek, caressing his beard before pressing their mouths together.

An hour later, Tommy was stood beside Alfie outside The Garrison, feeling each second as it passed, waiting for the coach to arrive and take him away from him. It was the same pain, the same aching, that was in his heart on his own journeys back home.

He checked his pocket watch. 10am. He sighed.

“Now, Tom,” Alfie began, adjusting the brim on his hat to reveal his soft eyes, “You’re gonna call me tonight, yeah, and there’s gonna be a photographer at your house in the next few days.”

“Is there now?” Tommy inquired, letting his smirk quirk the corners of his lips as he pulled out his cigarette to occupy his mouth. God knows he’d go for the kiss if he could. He lit the end and Alfie continued,

“Yeah, and you’re gonna be smiling and it’s gonna be the most beautiful picture anyone will ever see in their life, mate.”

“Glasses on or off, Mr Solomons?” He couldn’t resist a chuckle as he said it, watching as Alfie narrowed his eyes in deliberation.

“One with, one without.”

“I see,” Tommy concurred with the choice, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, “And how do you expect me to hold a smile for two whole photographs, eh?”

“Well, Treacle, it’s simple like this, yeah?” He said, waving his hands about, “Just think of my handsome fucking face, and you won’t be able to resist, will you?”

Tommy actually laughed at that, something he’d never dare to do in public, lest it make him seem unprofessional, but in these last moments in the presence of Alfie, he didn’t give a fuck.

That is until Ada walked up from behind him.

“What are you laughing at, Tommy?” She asked, trying not to look at Alfie, keeping her focus on Tommy and the blush blooming across his neck that he was attempting to hide it with the collar of his overcoat. He opened his mouth to reply, but Alfie beat him to it, extending a hand to Ada,

“Mr Solomons, business partner,” And he stared intently into her eyes, “You must be Tommy’s sister, those eyes have ‘Shelby’ written all over them.” And he smiled warmly, glad he managed to compliment both of them with one line.

“And you must be…” She glanced at Tommy before she made her reply, “the ‘tall, unpredictable Jewish gentleman’?” Tommy’s lips stayed around his cigarette, his eyes on the street to clock each car that passed should it be Alfie’s.

“Amongst other thing, yes…” Alfie confirmed, releasing Ada’s hand to put it back into his pocket. 

“We had a meeting last night and he stayed at that hotel down the road. Just waiting for his car now.” Tommy finally explained, seeing Ada smirk and nod with somewhat sarcastic understanding, biting her tongue to avoid letting what she was thinking slip past her lips.

Then, as the car pulled up a second later, Alfie grabbed onto Tommy’s hand without warning, holding it tight with one hand and tapping it with the other, the keen look in his eyes enough to convey his love without connecting their lips.

“I’ll be expecting that phone call, Tommy, I’ll be home at six o’clock.” He said, his grip tightening until he let it go, slipping away from him to enter his car.

“Safe travels, eh, Alfie?” He offered with one last goodbye, his heart heavy and strained in his chest, unable to show any of his disappointment that the hour of his leave had finally approached with Ada right next to him.

“’Course…”

Alfie shut the door and the coach drove away, Tommy standing beside his sister as he watched it leave, the silence between them drawing out with awkwardness. Then Ada spoke up,

“You love him, don’t you?”

Tommy turned his head to her, his wide eyes softening as he heard it.

“Ada—”

“No, Tommy, you don’t need to say anything,” She smiled and pushed him with her elbow, “Me of all people know what it’s like to be in forbidden love. The looks, the touches, the way you speak. Don’t tell me you’re not because I know you are!”

“Ada,” He began softly, clearing his throat, “I was just about to tell you that you’re right.”

Her eyes widened and so did her smile. He looked at his cigarette and the smoke trailing away from it. The ash fell away from the end and onto the ground.

“I love Alfie Solomons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) I really enjoyed this part of the series, there's definitely gonna be a follow up to it ♥ Check me out on [Tumblr](https://100dabbo.tumblr.com/) bc I'm quite active on there nowadays :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :)


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